Page 85 of Wicked Duty
Ever since we met, we’ve fought constantly. I can count all the times he’s shown me genuine kindness on one hand, so how can I possibly care about him this much?
Throughout my life, I’ve maintained distance in relationships. Growing up in foster care taught me that emotional connections inevitably lead to abandonment and pain.
The concept of true vulnerability always terrified me. It took me years to warm up to the idea of finding someone who might have serious relationship potential, and just when I’d decided to venture out of my shell with that hopeful thought in mind, I was snatched off the street by Viktor Roguilin and his brood of criminals.
My time with him confirmed my deepest, darkest beliefs that vulnerability equals danger. Naturally, all my interest in men flatlined and has remained that way for the last several months. But meeting Callum has changed everything for me. And I don’t understand why.
When anyone tries to get close to me, I withdraw. Protecting myself from possible rejection or loss of control is priority number one.
With Callum, I’ve been snarky. Rude. Defiant. Combative. Not exactly romantic.
And yet, ever since his watchful green eyes settled on me, I’ve struggled with the paradox of craving connection while still being terrified of losing control. Maintaining independence isn’t just my preference. It’s a survival mechanism. Without that barrier, I’m lost.
It’s not something I ever imagined I’d be able to forget about so easily, just being in the presence of a man who drives me insane.
Which begs the question, what exactly is happening between Callum and me?
That hot shit last night. This morning’s sex-filled wake-up call…
Even after all I’ve been through, I don’t regret sleeping with him.
Everything about it was incredible. Perfect.Hewas perfect.
We succumbed to our mutual attraction, but what does that mean for us?
How long is he going to be in my life? Is he guarding me until I testify for the DA?
What happens once the competition ends? If I win, I receive a contract as a Runway Revolution spokesmodel and eventually fly to Tokyo for their big event. Would Callum travel all the way across the Pacific just to protect me?
No matter what, he’s going to vanish from my life when his contract’s up. Right?
If I do win, and he comes with me to Tokyo, what happens after that?
What happens when he gets a new assignment? Is he going to guard some other woman and have this same experience all over again?
For all I know, he mixes business with pleasure all the time.
My doubts snowball.
I need to get out of this shower and greet the day. What’s left of it anyway. I’m sure it’ll be noon by the time I’m out, dressed, and mentally prepared to face Callum.
Man, am I in trouble.
After almost an hour, I finally pull myself together. When I emerge from the bedroom into the rest of the suite, I find Callum in the kitchen, working on something that smells delectably like breakfast.
I float closer. “You cook?” The fluffy pancakes he flips in the pan are a far cry from hardboiled eggs and protein bars. “Where did all this stuff come from?”
“I dabble. And delivery.” His gaze slides to me. And to my delight—no, horror, definitely horror—all the heat we generated earlier is still there, simmering in his clear green irises.
I glance away, already hot beneath the collar of my t-shirt.
The next part of the competition isn’t until tomorrow, which means I don’t have anywhere to be or anything to do for the next twenty-four hours.
Now that we’ve had sex, the tension has become unbearable. Just standing across the room from him suffocates me.
I’ve got to get out of here and clear my head.
Callum nods toward the plate he’s pushed across the breakfast bar. “Come eat.”
